


Deflouring

by orphan_account



Series: #cakefucker69 [2]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: M/M, Other, Sensual Cake Eating, Sexual Cake Eating
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-10-12
Updated: 2011-10-12
Packaged: 2017-10-24 13:48:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 887
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/264150
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This morning, however, instead of being greeted by a bowl of bran, there was a gorgeous, five tiered, cream-cheese frosted beauty in its place just sitting upon the table.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Deflouring

**Author's Note:**

> Written for on the LJ Kink Meme (sherlockbbc_fic) for the prompt: I'd like to read something along the lines of Mycroft devouring his cakes making loud, downright dirty, sexy nosies while doing so. Sucking chocolate off his long, elegant fingers, eyes fluttered shut, smearing white whipped cream all over his sensual lips and someone else getting off on the sight.

Mycroft Holmes is a good man. A good enough man to help his younger brother off cocaine (without thanks, might he add), one who tries to rebuild his family, and a man who has stopped wars before they began. Good men, Mycroft believed, also deserved some time away from work. But the world stops for no man, not even if that man is Mycroft Holmes. 

So it was a surprise when Mycroft was awoken by a text. He groggily rolled and reached over to the nightstand to grab his phone. Fumbling slightly with the device, he opens and clicks his inbox. “Happy Birthday, sir –A” Ah, that’s right. He sent out a quick reply with his thanks and tossed his phone onto the bed. “Another year, another day.” He grumbled. He had hoped that he would have a date with a certain Detective Inspector, but apparently his heavy hints went unnoticed. After rolling around on his mattress for a few more minutes, Mycroft slowly stood up and departed for his morning shower. 

After he was dressed to the nines, tailored suit and all he headed towards the kitchen. He had been on a diet for what seemed like years now, nothing really working as well as he had hoped and it didn’t help that Sherlock brought up his weight every instance he could. Hell, just a few days earlier after he had texted Sherlock just to see how he was faring, since he knew the Detective Inspector hadn’t called him in nearly a week, and received a comical diet joke and then “Piss off” as a reply. Typical. 

Breakfast was boring now that he was on this new diet. Every day for the past two months Mycroft ate 1 cup of a bland, bran cereal with skim milk. And what was even worse was that he was not allowed sugar in his cereal or his tea. This morning, however, instead of being greeted by a bowl of bran, there was a gorgeous, five tiered, cream-cheese frosted beauty in its place just sitting upon the table. 

“Hello there,” 

Mycroft walked up and eyed the cake for a minute, taking in the beautiful sight and finally reaching over the upper-most tier to grab one of the many chocolate curls resting on top. “Playing coy, I see.” 

“Mmmmm,” he moaned, as he popped the curl into his mouth. He mouth welcomed the rich and creamy sweetness of the milk chocolate, a flavour he had resisted for months. Picking up a second chocolate curl, he it into the icing and licked it off. Cream Cheese, just as he thought. He could smell it once he entered the kitchen, and he was never wrong with these things. The only aspects of this sexy little thing that he couldn’t make out about the cake were what type of cake was on the inside and what filling was occupying itself between the layers. Mmmm. Just the thought could bring Mycroft off alone. He hoped for chocolate cake with a chocolate pudding filling— but surely he couldn’t be lucky enough for that to happen, could he?Grazing his fingers across the icing once more, he inspected the cake on the inside. Chocolate. No, it couldn’t be. Prodding deeper into the cake, he reached the moist filling. After gathering some, he pulled out his fingers and began licking and sucking gently on two. Chocolate pudding. That was all Mycroft could stand before lowering his face to the bottom tier and licking down a thick stripe. 

Mycroft let out a groan as he continued licking icing off of the bottom layer while he reached up to grab more chocolate curls from the top and groping a bit of cake before pulling it off and bringing it down to his face. He took time away from his tongue work at the bottom of the cake to smear the cake and pudding around his face, licking away the remnants that were left on his palm. Work, shower and suit be damned, if he was going to play, he was going to play hard and play dirty. 

He stood up, descending his face once again, but this time into the top tier. He leaned into the cake, pressing his body against it and submerged his face in the frosting. He flicked his tongue in circles around the inside of the cake, just reaching the filling. He moaned in elation once more and he could have sworn he heard the cake gasp in appreciation too. 

As he raised himself up from the cake and stared down at the mess he made of his cake. He smiled. Dirty, dirty boy. He thought. He didn’t even want to know what state his face and dress were in, he certainly knew though, that he was going to have a late start to his daily schedule. One of the perks of being the British government, though, is that the only person he has to answer to when he is late is himself. Just as he was about to depart the kitchen for another shower, Mycroft noticed a simple card sitting next to the well-loved cake. He hadn’t noticed it before he made sweet love to the perfect confection.

Picking up the card, he read the inside;

 _Mycroft,  
Please, enjoy the cake. See you tonight?   
Greg_


End file.
